Hair Dye
by Pseudometapath
Summary: There's something about being young, restless, and public enemy number one that makes the simplest things turn sour in no time at all. One-Shot, rated for language.


"Are you sure you want to do this, Dante?" Kat held the tiny, opaque bottle in one hand. Her other was resting, invariably, on Dante's bare shoulder. The bathroom mirror on the wall before her covered the better part of the space above the granite counter and sinks; they were at a two-bit gas station, in a sectioned off bathroom scheduled for reconstruction in two days. One of the sinks was already gone, and the floor was wet and smelled like mold. Dante wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah. I think I'm ready." He ran a hand through his hair, which was short and shockingly white, and dripping onto his shoulders and the linoleum around him, forming a puddle at his feet. He observed his reflection with apparent ease, but Kat could see the agitation in his eyes. "Let's get this over with."

Kat shook the tiny bottle and snipped off the tip with a tiny pair of scissors. She lifted a ribbon of ivory hair and squeezed the bottle onto his scalp at the roots. She thought she must've cut the hole too wide, because a surprising amount of product spilled from the bottle and onto his scalp.

"Shit!" He flinched. "That is _really_ cold."

Kat grinned vaguely. "Yeah, I can feel it through the gloves." The rubber gloves protecting her hands from permanent gray tinge had already turned the color of pitch. She poured more dye onto his hair, marveling at how quickly it obliterated his natural hair color. It was an easier process than she'd expected, and she quickly finished dying the better part of his hair. She stopped to shake the bottle again, being careful to cover the tip, and she saw that Dante's eyes were shut; his head was tipping slightly to the side. She nudged him with her elbow.

"You alright there?"

He nodded. "Yeah, just kinda lightheaded. My nose is sensitive, and the dye smells really wrong, like...chemicals. Just wrong," he said, rubbing his eyes. "It's making my eyes sting, too."

Kat looked at Dante's mostly black hair. "We're almost done, alright?"

"Yeah, I know. _Damn_, it just smells so bad," he said, shifting his shoulders. "Anything to hide me from the press, though, right?" Kat thought she heard the barest hint of umbrage in his voice, but whether it was aimed at the government or their own higher-ups, she couldn't tell.

Kat smiled. "It's not so bad." She squeezed the last bit of dye from the bottle and pulled it through his hair. She gave it a once over. "Nice. I kinda like it," she said, and she could tell by the contempt in Dante's eyes that he knew she was lying.

"You're lying." _Bingo_, she thought.

"Alright, maybe I am. Your white hair was more unique." She pulled the gloves off her hands with two loud _snaps_ and threw them into the unlined trash bin nearby. Dante surveyed his head in the mirror.

"I look _homosexual_."

"It looks _fine._ Just...not better."

Dante scoffed. "Was this really necessary, Catherine?" He brushed his hair with his fingertips, staining them with black wisps of hair dye. "How long do I need to let this set?"

Kat grappled for the box on the cluttered counter, finding it in one of the sinks. "Uh...it says for ten minutes, but I think we should go a little longer, since your hair's so light." She tossed the box into the trash bin. Dante growled in frustration.

"Damn it_._" He leaned back in the chair they'd smuggled in through the window. He was quiet for a moment, and so Kat said nothing, merely pushing up her sleeves and perching delicately on the sink. Dante folded his arms across his bare chest and leaned back, staring at the tag board ceiling detachedly. Kat found herself staring at the dots and splashes of dark hair dye staining his arms and shoulders, where she'd accidentally flicked a hand or snapped a glove, sending dye flying in all directions as a result. The contrast it made against his pale skin was striking under the fluorescent light.

"See something you like?"

Kat started. Dante had, of course, been watching her observe him, and he was smirking. She rolled her eyes and reached into the pile of his things on the counter for his shirt. "You're very funny. Rinse your hair and put your shirt back on." She threw it at him, and he snatched it out of the air.

"About time. My head's starting to itch." He twisted the knob on one of the sinks, and it came on full blast. He submerged his head completely into the sink, trying and failing to rinse off the excess dye. Kat slid off the counter and stepped around him.

"You have to get the back, too."

"I'm _trying._" His voice was muffled by the sound of rushing water. The water in the sink had turned the same color as storm clouds. " Is the water getting any clearer?"

"A little." She twisted the cap off another bottle, this one similar to a tube of toothpaste, but shorter. "Here, rub this into your hair and let it set for five minutes." She tossed it to him, and he caught it, a towel draped over his shoulders.

"What..." he began, reading the translucent label on the tube. "Kat, I don't have _time_ for this _bullshit_. I am _not conditioning my hair_." He dropped the bottle onto the counter and began vigorously drying his hair.

"Do you want soft hair or not?" Kat asked, holding the bottle out toward him again.

"I don't _care_, Kat. The only time anyone touches my hair is when they're pulling it," he said, observing the dark gray stains on the towel. "I didn't rinse enough." He swiped the conditioner from Kat's hand, and threw it and the towel into the trash bin with a muffled thump. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed his coat at Kat, who caught it out of habit.

"Be a dear and carry that, would you?" he said, smirking and patting her cheek degradingly. She slapped his hand away.

"_Dante,_" she started, dropping his coat on the counter. "I'm your guide, not your _slave._"

"Yeah? Well as my _guide_, you-" and very suddenly, he stopped.

Several things happened simultaneously then. Dante's smirk slid off his face entirely; his head tilted slightly, and his eyes became fixed on a point a few inches above and to the right of Kat's head. The room filled with the overpowering smell of decay. She felt a slight _thump_, like a quiet disturbance that you couldn't tell was there unless you knew what it felt like and had felt it before. And then all at once, Dante was translucent; she could see the cracks in the wall behind him through his lucid skin.

"Shit!" He whipped Ebony and Ivory from where they rested in holsters at his hips and fired at something behind her. The ethereal bullets passed through the mirror, leaving the glass unharmed, but she could hear a faint shattering noise, accompanied by a furious, unearthly roar.

"Kat," he said, still firing rapidly, "they've pulled me into Limbo."

"What? she exclaimed,_"Now?"_

"Yes, Kat, now!"

She reached behind her and grabbed Rebellion from the counter. She threw it, and he holstered his guns and grabbed at the hilt of his sword. Kat was beginning to see the demons, and they were _everywhere;_ she could see one of them crawling above her head, attached to the ceiling by spiky, spindly limbs, and she shivered. She reached for her paper canister, and by the time she'd slung it around her shoulders and onto her back, Dante had become completely overwhelmed by the demons in the small area.

"Kat!" His voice erupted from beneath the mayhem. "Get out!"

"But-"

"OUT!" he yelled, and Kat didn't argue. She ducked past Dante and threw her canister threw the little window, hauling her tiny frame out after it. She landed with a thud in the dirt outside. For a moment, she worried that a janitor or construction worker would walk into the bathroom and see Dante, but she remembered that to anyone who wasn't psychic or a demon, Dante was invisible when he was in Limbo. She scrambled around the side of the tiny, debilitated building. The effects of Limbo were beginning to take hold, and she could suddenly see the hordes of demons amassing in the general area outside the station. Her vision flickered between reality and Limbo; one moment, the sky would be its regular blue-gray, and the refill station would be as quiet and interminable as always. The next, she would see broken pipes, crumbling caulking, and wooden beams twisting and folding in on themselves as though they had minds of their own, merging with the dirt and cement outside to pull Dante deeper into Hell.

She surveyed the scene, keeping as calm as she possibly could. It was very, very difficult to create an escape in a wide open area like the lot of the gas station, but the solution to her problem became apparent very quickly; a building, also old but much larger than the gas station, probably an office at one point but now nothing but an echo of a long-gone establishment, was situated a few dozen yards away in the middle of a small parking area. She sprinted toward the havoc, drawing as close as she dared before coming to a stop a few feet from the violence.

"Dante!" she screamed, and he turned toward her.

"Kat! _Get_ _out of_-"

She cut him off. "You need to get yourself to that building! I can't find a way out unless you do!" she shouted.

He deflected a blow, looked back toward her, and nodded. "Alright. Just _hurry, dammit_." He swung his scythe, one of the many weapons in his arsenal, in a wide arc, and it impaled a crowd of demons on its wickedly sharp blade. He pulled it back with inhuman swiftness and precision and whipped it around with a yell, throwing another group of hellions into the air. They flew against the flickering ruin of the station with a satisfying crash; rubble rained from the resulting cloud of mayhem.

Kat turned and sprinted, this time toward the old office building. She tried the glass double front door, but it was, of course, locked up tight. She tried around the side, and found a smaller, wooden door, also locked, but a sharp kick above the lock solved that problem. She rushed inside the lobby and pulled the metal canister, standard issue for engineering students or, in her case, psychics, off her back. She looked around, scanning the room for something she could turn into a portal.

"Come on," she whispered to herself. The sounds outside were growing louder; the low growls and Dante's noises of exertion were drawing nearer.

She hit paydirt on the second floor of the office building-a tall, wide window, nearly twice her height, stretched from one corner of the office to another, allowing a wash of crimson light into the room. It covered the bare, abandoned cubicles with a dark blush. Kat pulled several large stencils and a can of blue spray paint from the canister. She began to arrange the stencils against the window, holding them in place with strips of black masking tape. She gave the can a shake and popped off the lid. Holding the can in one sweaty palm, she held down the nozzle and drew it in a wide arc across the stencils, filling them out as quickly as she possibly could. Another loud crash echoed from below her, followed by a triumphant yell from Dante. She ripped the stencils from the window and cursed when the thick paper slit the pad of her thumb.

"Dante!" she shouted as she rolled the stencils back into the canister.

"I know!" His voice came to her from the bottom of the stairwell across the room. A hellish creature crashed up the stairwell and collided with the door frame, cracking it. The room was beginning to split and crack, folding in on itself as though every bit of wood or plaster was working against them. Kat ducked into a worn cubicle just as a particularly large demon came barreling across the space between them and slammed into a desk, just inches from where she'd been standing moments before. Kat gestured wildly at the window; Dante made an exasperated sound of general understanding and drew yet another weapon from his arsenal - an ax - and unleashed it upon the diminishing horde.

Kat nearly screamed when, without warning, the floor split abruptly in half, creating an impossibly wide chasm in the center of the room. Cubicles and bits of wood fell into the pale red, swirling abyss below. Dante nearly tumbled into it as he wrestled with another demon, just barely managing to fling it over the edge into the spiraling depths.

Kat heard a noise to her left and turned. The demon that had collided with the desk was climbing to its feet, staggering slightly as it raised to its full height. It looked at her, fixing its dark, glassy eyes on her own, and unleashed a wet, guttural snarl from the depths of its throat. She reached around for something she could use as a weapon, and her fingers closed around a broken piece of wood; she leveled one splintered end at the beast with unwavering resolve and defiance. It took a step closer.

"HEY!"

Kat and the demon alike turned their heads. Dante stood at the other edge of the gap, leaning heavily on his sword, surrounded by corpses.

"You came for me, didn't you?" he asked, spreading his arms in invitation. "Then come get me!"

The demon roared. It bounded toward the gap and sprang across the impossibly widening distance. Dante leaped forward and slung his Angel Whip through the air in a deft, calculated motion; it connected to the monster's chest, causing it to squeal in pain and protest. Dante swung in a low arc, letting go at the very last moment and crashing, gracelessly, through the blue paint circle on the window and into the street below.

The glass erupted into a cloud of glinting shards, but Kat could see a distinctly blue sky beyond it. The temperature let up by a few degrees; the sick, pale red glow vanished from the air. Kat looked around her and saw that other than the shattered window and the jagged piece of wood in her hand that matched up with a shallow hole in the floor, the entire office was completely normal. The chasm was gone - the hardwood floor was dusty but otherwise unremarkable. She breathed a sigh of relief. They were out of Limbo; for the time, they were safe.

Kat descended the stairs and rushed from the building. Dante, completely opaque now, sat hunched over in the parking lot only a few yards from the front door, his back facing her. She saw that his shirt was torn and soaked in blood. She realized as she approached and saw shards of glass protruding from his shoulder that the blood belonged to him.

She knelt by his side. "Dante, are you..." She trailed off when she saw the reproachful look he was giving her. He scoffed.

"You forget about...the blood of the eternally damned...in my veins?" He laughed, and winced when it caused more blood to gush from his wounds. "Oh, damn. Just pull the glass out."

Kat complied. He was a good sport and kept his mouth shut as she pulled out the particularly jagged shards, and she was grateful for that. She pulled the last piece out and ground the pile to dust under her hiking boot. "Alright," she said, wiping Dante's blood from her hands. "Go for it."

He nodded and tensed, the strain momentarily causing blood to flow profusely from his wounds before they began to close, the skin drawn together by a pale bluish-white light. Kat was once again amazed at his seemingly endless range of power. After a minute, all that was left of the wounds were discolored scars. Kat used a bit of her sweater sleeve and pieces of the ruined stencils to wipe off the rest of the blood. Dante looked at her gratefully, the closest she would ever get to a word of thanks from him, and she accepted it.

"By the way," she said, and Dante looked at her again.

"What?"

"Your hair really does look alright."

Dante scrutinized her, gaging her sincerity, and then he laughed.

"Yeah, well," he sighed, and he just shook his head. "It's just hair. I'll survive."

Finally, he stood and stretched. The sun hung low on the horizon and was slipping lower still, casting a myriad of blues, reds, and pinks across the sky. "Fuck, I am _hungry_," he said as his joints popped. "What say we find the cheapest, shittiest fast food joint we can find and pool our money, yeah?" He mockingly gestured toward the dingy, graffiti-covered buildings that made up two-thirds of Limbo City. She was astounded at how easily he brushed off each of their encounters with Limbo and the demons that hunted him every day.

Kat slapped his hand away. "Let's just go," she said, and was about to walk away when Dante stopped her with an exclamation.

"Oh! Shit." He brushed his hands over his hair. "Don't wait for me. You find somewhere sleazy, I'll catch up," he said, and then turned and ran back the way they'd come. Kat stared at him for only a moment before she let out a small laugh and started to jog after him. They'd left his coat at the gas station.


End file.
